concerned,'' said Satan, soberly. ``It is
wrapped with strands of hair from the
first mother of man.'' Impressively then
he offered the violin to Diotti.

``I dare not take it,'' said the
perplexed musician; ``it's from--''

``Yes, it is directly from there, but I
brought it from heaven when I--I left,''
said the fallen angel, with remorse in
his voice. ``It was my constant
companion there. But no one in my
domain--not I, myself--can play upon it
now, for it will respond neither to our
longing for pity, hope, love, joy, nor
even death,'' and sadly and retrospectively
Satan gazed into vacancy; then,
after a long pause: ``Try the instrument!''

Diotti placed the violin in position
and drew the bow across the string of
joy, improvising on it. Almost instantly
the birds of the forest darted hither and
thither, caroling forth in gladsome
strains. The devil alone was sad, and
with emotion said:

``It is many, many years since I
have heard that string.''